Lanfranc began telling the story of Mme Suif, a story that was well known to everyone. Rose listened attentively. The moment Lanfranc could collect a friendly audience he always told the story of Mme Suif. It was, in some degree, his own story too. Mme Suif had been his mistress, then he had married, then he had resumed relations with her and had, with the cooling of their passion, remained her friend.
"Ah! If I hadn't been so childish as to marry for love, I would marry Mme Suif's millions to-day, for Mme Suif would be grateful to any man who would relieve her of her name. Being an architect of churches and ancient monuments, I could hardly get divorced, could I? But of course she may be willing to call herself Mme Leonor Varin. For she looks at my nephew with no unfavorable eye."
"Thanks, I don't want her," said Leonor, blushing.
Rose had looked at him and he had suddenly felt quite ashamed of his secret cupidity.
Leonor, who was nearly thirty, looked older from a distance and younger from close at hand. He was large, rather massive and slow
